


Oxygen

by T Verano (t_verano)



Series: Soyaluna [3]
Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: 2012 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "Christmas Eve", Angst, Gen, Resolved, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2020-04-07 04:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19077718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: Blair takes a leap of faith on Christmas Eve.





	Oxygen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 TS Secret Santa Drabble Days prompt "Christmas Eve"
> 
> (While this fic and series are marked as gen, they're equal opportunity; they could be gen, pre-slash, or slash, whichever way you want it to be. Like anything I write that's marked as "gen" :-))
> 
> (But really, I think of this as slash. Or at least pre-slash. It's just that you *can* read it as gen. If you want.)
> 
> (Categories are very difficult. :-))

_Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea._ The chant inside Blair's head hadn't stopped since the pilot had cut the jet's engines with a cheerful, "Welcome to Cascade, folks. Happy Holidays!"

Easy for him to say.

It had taken every ounce of willpower Blair had to not sprint to the ticket counter as soon as he got off the plane and exchange his return flight for _anything_ that was leaving Cascade tonight instead of a week from tonight. But he'd come this far, right? That had to mean he could do this.

Or not. Standing on the sidewalk and looking up at the loft, he felt like he was trapped in the Twilight Zone: the world going about its business all around him, normal as crap, and he was the only one who noticed that every molecule of oxygen was being rapidly sucked out of the atmosphere.

It was worse inside the lobby, and by the time the elevator creakily dumped him off at the third floor his right leg was jiggling with so much nervous energy he wasn't sure he could walk the couple of yards to their — Jim's — door.

_I can do this._ Leaning against the wall next to the elevator, he tried for a couple of deep breaths and pulled out the slightly battered package he'd wrapped that morning — at least he wasn't showing up out of the blue on Christmas Eve empty-handed; maybe that would count for something…

"You gonna hold up the wall all night, Sandburg?"

Jim. Shit, Jim. Of course Jim had heard him. _Bad idea, bad idea —_

"Your call," Jim said after a moment, "but I vote you come inside."

Jim looked… good. Tired, but good.

Wary. Maybe a little sad.

But not pissed. It was a start.

"Uh, Jim, hey," Blair said. _Smooth, Sandburg._ "I know this is a surprise, I tried to call you a couple of days ago but you were out, and Naomi had all these frequent flyer miles going to waste and I thought maybe it would be nice to come back for a visit, see everybody for Christmas — next June feels kind of far away, right? — and I don't have to stay here, it's not that, okay? But I… look, I, um, brought you a present."

"Yeah, you did," Jim said. He wasn't looking at the brightly wrapped present Blair was gesturing with at all, just at Blair.

"I've got a bushel of Rhonda's Christmas cookies I need help with, and Brown's famous Christmas fudge," he went on after a long moment, still staring into Blair's eyes like one or the other of them might drown if he looked away. "Get your butt in here."

"Jim, we need to —"

"Talk; yeah, I know." Jim's eyes were still locked on Blair's. "So you know up front, I want you to want to come back when you're done. To stay. For good."

Funny how, suddenly, Blair could breathe again.

And walk again. Towards the loft, and Jim, and _home._


End file.
